


The Rivalry

by Tomslegsarekillingmeslowly



Category: American Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Playful Sex, Sports, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomslegsarekillingmeslowly/pseuds/Tomslegsarekillingmeslowly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Evans is a Red Sox fan, you are a Yankees fan. Sass and sex commence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You’d sworn that you’d never come here. It was like crossing into enemy territory. You pull your Yankee’s hat down further on your head and look around. A sea of Red Sox hats are surrounding you. You can not believe that you let your friends talk you into this. Why are you standing here outside of Fenway fucking Park? Why are you going to sit in a private suite with a bunch of your friends, all of whom are Sox fans? Fuck, you are never going to live this down.  
Your friends start moving toward the gates and you try to blend in with them as much as possible. You hear a few calls of “Yankee’s suck!” as you make your way through the stadium to the suite, but it’s no where as bad as you thought it might be. At least you’ll be able to see one of Jeter’s last games at Fenway in amazing seats with all of the beer and food you could want. You can take a little razzing and you certainly weren’t shy about dishing it out to anyone that might need it. Fingers crossed that the Yanks won, that would make it a little bit easier.  
Once you are in the suite, you grab a beer and some food and take a seat way down in front, through the doors and out in the open air. Unlike most of the people that you came with, you actually want to watch the game. Your friends are here for the free beer and hopes of meeting a celebrity since this box is owned by Disney. You just love baseball and you’ll even walk into the lion’s den to watch your Yanks play.  
The game starts and you are so into it that you don’t really notice the activities of the people in the suite behind you. You hear noises and it starts to fill up and some people come and sit in the seats but you pay little attention to their comings and goings. The Yankees are winning and you couldn’t be happier. You barely notice that the seat next to you has been occupied until the man leans toward you and speaks into your ear with a Boston accent.  
“Aren’t you about 250 miles north of where you should be?” he asks.  
“Aren’t you about 13.5 games back from where you should be?” you answer without looking at the man, the couple beers you’ve had loosening your tongue.  
The man laughs out loud and you look at him with a smirk on your face. His head is thrown back and he’s got one hand clutching the left side of his chest. His Red Sox hat is pulled low over his face but you’d recognize those dimples anywhere, even with the dark stubble covering them. You’re a huge Marvel fan. You’d know Captain America with your eyes closed.  
He stops laughing and turns to look at you. His smile is a mile wide and you stomach drops. He’s even more ridiculously good looking in person. He has a tee shirt on the fits him very well. A small amount of chest hair is peeking out of the top along with the corner of a tattoo. Fuck, you should probably stop staring at him before he gets creeped out.  
“That was a fucking quick comeback,” he says. “I’m impressed. I’m Chris, by the way.” He offers you his hand.  
You take it and tell him yours. A cheer goes up and you turn back to the field. The damn Red Sox scored while you were talking to Chris. Damn it! You slump back into your seat and take another swig of your beer. Chris leans in close to you again.  
“A few more runs like that and it will only be 12.5 back,” he says and sits back in his seat with a smirk on his face. You take another swig of your beer and decide that he must enjoy the banter as much as you do, he started it anyways.  
“Talk to me after 19 more championships, dimples,” you say to him not taking your eyes off of the game.  
You hear him laugh next to you again before he leans in close.  
“I bet the Sox win today,” he whispers in your ear.  
“I bet they don’t,” you say back to him, turning slightly away from the game to met his eyes.  
“What’s the wager?” he asks leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  
“Your call dimples,” you say to him. “Today is a day of firsts for me, so let’s make it interesting.”  
“Adventurous! I like that,” he replies with a smirk on his face. “Winner decides after the game. Loser must agree to whatever the winner wants. Deal?” He sticks out his hands to shake yours.  
“Agreed,” you answer taking his hand. “Now let’s watch the game dimples.”  
He turns back to the game with a big grin on his face and you watch him a moment before doing the same. You pay attention to the game for a few minutes but your mind quickly wanders to what you could possibly have him do if you win. A parade of ideas march through your head, each one dirtier than the previous. Scenes from some of his movies that you’d like to recreate. The dude certainly doesn’t have a problem taking his clothes off in front of the camera.  
His arm brushes up against yours and you are startled back to reality. You glance over at him and he’s looking at you with a smirk on his face. Fuck, he looks like he knows exactly what you were just thinking about. And apparently the Sox tied the game while you were daydreaming about the gorgeous movie star that is sitting next to you. Fuck.  
“Nervous?” he asks from the seat next to you. “Score is tied in the bottom of the seventh. Could go either way at this point. Thinking about what you’re going to do if you win?” He looks at you, his head cocked to the side.  
Your liquid courage gets the better of you once again and your smart ass side rears its ugly head. “I think if anyone should be nervous, it’s you Mr. Movie Star,” you say turning your body toward his in your seat. When today is over, no matter who wins, I get to go back home and no one will know anything. You, on the other hand, may end up on a magazine cover.”  
You sit back against the armrest of the chair and cross your arms in front of your chest; a smug look on your face as you look at him. He roars with laughter again and some of the people sitting near you stop and gaze over at the two of you before going back to their conversations. He stops laughing and leans over toward you, putting one hand on your leg.  
“What if you ended up on that magazine cover with me?” he says in a low voice. “What if when I win, I bet that you won’t fuck me right here at Fenway. What if when I do fuck you, I make you scream so loud that the security guards come to find out what’s going on? What about that?"  
Your mouth drops open for a second but you recover quickly. Fuck that shit, you think. Movie star or no, you aren’t letting anyone get one over on you.  
“Oh, Chris, you don’t want to do that,” you say to him as you press your tits against his arm that is stretched across your lap. “You have a career to think about. I can’t have you following me back home like a lost puppy. Because if I let you fuck me, that is exactly what is going to happen.”  
It’s his turn to be shocked. His mouth drops open and his big blue eyes widen at your words. He visibly swallows and you know you’ve hit a nerve. Then a smile breaks out on his face as his hand moves and he grabs your crotch hard. You gasp as he tightens his grip and the seam of your jeans rubs against your clit.  
“Alright smartass, you want to play? We’ll play,” he says as he squeezes between your legs. “Don’t act like you weren’t thinking about fucking me. I could see it on your face. And right now, I can feel how wet your are through your jeans.”  
You let out a whimper as he continues massaging your cunt with his hand. Your hips twitch upwards to press against him. Fuck, he’s going to make you come right here without taking any of your clothes off.  
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says not taking his hand away from you and continuing to squeeze you. “Fuck the bet. You’re going to excuse yourself and go into the hallway. I’ll excuse myself and meet you out there in a few minutes. Then I’m going to take you somewhere and fuck you until you can’t stand. Clear?”  
His hand continues to knead your pussy as you manage a nod and press yourself more fully against his hand more fully. You are so close to coming that you can’t really concentrate on what is going on around you. He moves his hand away quickly and sits back in his seat, his eyes focused firmly back on the game. You sit back in your seat and squirm a little. Your pussy is soaked and you are teetering on the edge of sanity because of Chris’ denial of your orgasm. You get up from your seat on shaky legs and make your way toward the door. Are you really going to fuck Chris Evans at Fenway Park? Yeah you are, you smile to yourself as you make an excuse to your friends and slip out of the door to the hallway.  
You lean against the wall a short way down the hallway. You squeeze your legs together and try to alleviate the ache there as you wait for Chris to come out of the door. god you hope that he doesn’t take too long, you feel like you are going to explode. Every time you hear a door open, you turn toward it, hoping that it is him.  
After 10 minutes, the door finally opens and you see him come out. He’s on his phone, but he keeps his eyes on yours as he walks toward you.  
“I totally owe you, dude,” he says into the phone as he stops in front of you. “I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks again.”  
He grabs your hand and pulls you down the hallway as he shoves his phone in his pocket.  
“Where are you going?” you ask him as he pulls you down the corridor.  
“Somewhere private where I can make you forget you were ever a Yankee’s fan,” he says over his shoulder with a grin.  
“Listen, Dimples,” you say to him. “You’re very pretty and I’m sure you’re great in the sack but you’d have to be Superman to make me forget that I was a Yankees fan.”  
The two of you reach a doorway. Chris stops and turns to you.  
“I’m better than Superman, I’m Captain America!” he says with a grin as he knocks on the door.  
A man answers and opens the door wide, gesturing the two of you inside.  
“Come in, Mr. Evans,” he says. “Mr. Damon said that you’d be using the suite for the remainder of the game. He said for me to tell you to enjoy yourself and use whatever you’d like. I’ll come by after the game to lock up.”  
He tips his hat and leaves. You turn to Chris and he grins at you, those gorgeous dimples on display even behind the beard that covers his face.  
“Where are we, Cap?” you say with a grin, looking around.  
“Matt Damon’s suite,” he replies with a smirk. “I knew he was off shooting so I took a chance and called him to see if it was free. Lucky for us, it was.”  
“Lucky for us indeed,” you say as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Moving your hair to the side, he kisses your neck and moves his hands to the hem of your tee shirt. With one fluid movement, he pulls it over your head, taking your hat with it and releasing your hair over your shoulders.  
“You’ve teased me enough,” he says as he unbuttons your jeans and pushed them down. “I want you hard and fast.”  
You moan as he pulls your panties down and then pulls them and your jeans completely off. You step out of them and pull his hat off of his head.  
“I’m not fucking you with the Red Sox hat on, Dimples,” you tell him as you throw it to the side and start to unbutton his jeans and he pulls his shirt over his head.  
“When I’m done with you, you’re going to be begging me to wear that hat,” he says as he pulls your body to his. “Bend over and grab that chair.”  
“Fucking finally,” you say as you bend at the waist and grip the chair back.  
You feel him step between your spread legs and you widen them slightly and tilt your pelvis waiting for him to enter you.  
“Eager thing, aren’t you?” he chuckles as he slides between your lips, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet folds.  
“Shut up and fuck me, Evans,” you say. “I’d like to catch the end of the game when my Yanks beat your Sox.”  
“In your dreams,” he says and then slams inside of you.  
He wasn’t joking about hard and fast. His hips slam into your ass and you grip the chair harder for support. Digging his fingers into your hips, he pistons his cock into you over and over, hitting your g=spot with each thrust.  
“Fuck!” you groan. “I’m going to come, Evans. You better catch up!”  
“Right behind you,” you manages through gritted teeth. “You feel so amazing and you are so fucking tight.”  
Your pussy clenches around his cock and you come hard, gripping the chair to hold yourself up on your weak legs. His hands tighten on your hips and he thrusts once more before emptying himself inside of you. The two of you stand there, panting, your bodies still connected as you feel him start to soften inside of you. He pulls out and you moan at the loss. You hear him chuckle behind you as he plants a kiss on your back.  
“Alright Yank,” he says as you turn around. “Let’s watch the end of the game then I’m taking you back to my house so I can convert you to the Red Sox nation.”  
“Not on your life, Evans,” you tell him as you grab your jeans and pull them on. “I’d need an awful lot of convincing for that to happen.”  
“Oh, I’ve got some other methods up my sleeve,” he says as he pulls his shirt over his head.  
“You have vastly underestimated my skills,” you tell him as you place his hat back on his head. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to wear a Yankees hat.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rivalry continues

“I fucking told you so,” you say to Chris as the two of you leave the private suite.  
“You did and I know when to admit defeat,” he says as he puts his hands up with a grin. “It’s apparently just not the Sox’s year. I have to ask though, what would you have made me do if the bet was still on?”  
“I may or may not have been thinking of making you recreate some of the more explicit parts of your movies. Whipped cream ring any bells?” you tell him as the two of you walk down the hallway toward the exit of the stadium.  
He laughs out loud again and his right hand immediately flies to the left side of his chest.  
“Can I just tell you how adorable your laugh is?” you say as the two of you exit the stadium on Yawkey Way.  
“God, I’m so self conscience about it,” he says with a grimace.  
“Don’t be,” you tell him as you thread your arm though his. “It’s terribly sexy.”  
“Is it?” he says as he tightens his grip on your arm and pulls you toward a parking lot. “I’ve always thought it was so dorky.”  
“Definitely sexy,” you say as the two of you reach the side of an old step-side Ford pickup. “Yours?”  
“Mine,” he says as he opens the door for you to climb up.  
“Also very sexy, dimples,” you say as you climb in the cab. “There is just something about a boy with a truck.”  
“Good Lord woman. If we can break you of the whole Yankees fan thing, I think you’d almost be perfect,” he says with a grin as he closes the door and moves around the truck to the driver’s side.

 

He opens the door and climbs into the driver’s seat. Pulling a pair of glasses out of the cup holder, he puts them on and gives you a sheepish look.  
“I’m not getting any younger apparently,” he says. I have to wear these when I drive and stuff like that now.”  
“Also, sexy,” you mouth at him as he starts the truck and maneuvers it out of the parking lot and onto the road.  
Once the two of you make it out of traffic and start really moving, you ask him how long before you reach his place.  
“Maybe 40 minutes, depending on the traffic,” he answers as he pulls onto the highway. I have a place in the city but lately I’ve been staying at my family’s house on the shore just north of Boston. I miss the New England coast when I’m away filming.”  
“And a house on the beach. Add that to the sexy list, dimples,” you say as you kick your shoes off with a grin and throw your feet up on the dash. “I totally get it though. I could never live anywhere but New England, honestly. It’s where I belong.”  
“Make yourself comfortable, by all means,” he laughs and glances over at you as you stretch out and settle in.  
“I always do,” you reply, grinning back at him.  
He reaches over and places his hand on the inside of your thigh, his big hand splayed out over it, nearly covering it. He pulls you toward him, across the bench seat, until you are sitting against him.  
“Hi there,” he says with a smile.  
“Hello, yourself,” you say as you lean your head against his shoulder and place you hand on his leg.  
The two of you begin talking, exchanging the type of information that people probably exchange before the have sex. You tell about your job and your family and he tells you about the movie that he is about to start working on and about his family as well. His hand begins methodically squeezing your thigh as the two of you are talking and you can feel yourself getting wet again as his big hand caresses your thigh. You shift so that you can try and dull the ache that is growing between your legs. You accidently brush against his cock with the back of your hand. He gasps at the contact.  
“Oh, and hello to you, too,” you say as you palm his cock through his jeans.  
“Fuck,” he groans as his eyes dart from your hand to the road and back again.  
You feel him growing hard under your hand and you give him a squeeze.  
“I’m not sure we can accomplish an actual fuck while you are driving,” you say as you start to undo his belt. “But I’m sure we can do something about this...”  
You unbutton and unzip him, pulling his hardening cock out of his boxer briefs.  
“Jesus, where did you come from?” he laughs as he lifts his hips slightly so you can pull his jeans down a bit.  
“Connecticut,” you tell him as you take your hat off and throw it on the seat behind you and take him in your mouth.  
Swirling your tongue around his head, you can taste the pre-cum that has gathered there. You can feel the truck surge forward as his foot presses down on the accelerator. One of his hands come off of the wheel and you feel him grab your ponytail and wrap it around his hand.  
You pull your mouth off of his cock long enough to tell him to keep his eyes on the road or you are going to stop.  
“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a smile as you lower your head again.  
You reach into his pants and pull out his balls, holding them in your hand and squeezing them gently as you start at the bottom of his shaft and lick upward. When you reach the top, you take the entire thing in your mouth and suck.  
“Holy fuck,” he says. “We seriously need to work on this whole Yankees thing and then I’m never letting you go home.”  
You let it pop out of your mouth and look up at him.  
“Not happening dimples,” you reply. “But I can promise when I’m done with you, you won’t even care what baseball team I like.”  
You take his entire cock in your mouth again and swallow as much of it as you can. You feel his thighs tense under your hands and he lets out a low moan that makes your pussy tingle. You run your mouth up and down his shaft, swirling your tongue over the tip each time you reach it. Twisting the bottom of his shaft with your hand, you continue this motion until you can feel him start to buck his hips upward.  
“I’m close,” he says, his breath short. “Please don’t stop.”  
You pull your mouth away and take him in your hands.  
“How far from your house are we?” you ask him as you stroke him.  
“About 10 minutes,” he says with a glance down. “Please tell me you aren’t going to make me wait?”  
“Nope,” you tell him. “I just wanted to make sure that I don’t have to wait too long to get mine back from you. I want your face between my legs and your beard scratching my thighs.”  
You bend and take his cock in your mouth again, working his shaft with your hands as you suck.  
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he manages before filling your mouth.  
You swallow what he gives you and sit up again, wiping a small amount off of your lip with your finger and licking it off.  
“Jesus Christ,” he says with a grin as he glances your way. “That is the sexiest fucking thing that I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”  
You smile at him and help him to tuck himself back in his pants before answering.  
“I expect the same amount of dedication to a job well done that I just showed you,” you tell him with a smile.  
“Ma’am, would you expect anything but the best from Captain America?” he says with a smirk.


	3. Chapter 3

The two of you ride the short distance to Chris’ house in a comfortable silence although the sexual tension hangs in the air. You know the anticipation of the rest of the day is killing the both of you. Chris has his hand back on your thigh and the constant stroking of his palm against your jeans is almost maddening. He may have gotten off a few minutes ago, but you certainly didn’t and the wet state of your panties can attest to that fact.  
Chris turns the truck down a side street and suddenly you can smell the ocean. Looking up, the Atlantic is spread out before you. Being September, most of the cottages seem to be closed up for the season and the small shops that dot the landscape are all boarded up. Chris looks over at you as you take in the gorgeous New England landscape.  
“There are only a few die hards that live out here year round,” he says. “Most of the summer people have packed up and gone home for the year. I only saw one house with a car in the driveway when I left this morning.”  
“Wow, so we have the whole shore to ourselves?” you say. “That is pretty awesome.”  
“It will probably get pretty cold after the sun goes down, but we can definitely take a walk on the beach if you want to,” he says. “If you are willing to wait, that is.” He shoots you a smirk.  
“If you promise it will be worth the wait, I’d love to take a walk on the beach before it gets cold,” you say.  
“Promise,” he says as he gives your thigh a squeeze. “Here we are.”  
He pulls into the driveway of a small, gray cottage. It is exactly as you would think of when you think seaside cottage. The driveway is crushed seashells and the truck tires are loud as he parks the truck close to the house.   
“Stay there and I’ll come get you,” he says as he opens his door. “I want to show you something.”  
He gets out and hurries around to your side. Opening your door, he puts his hands on your waist and lifts you down out of the truck. You can feel the heat of his hands through your shirt and you are instantly sorry that you agreed to wait. The two of you lock eyes for a moment before one of his hands cover your eyes and he leads you down the driveway toward the house.   
You walk for a bit before he stops you.  
“Keep your eyes closed,” he says as he takes his hand away.  
You hear the jingle of keys and he pulls you forward.  
“Up a step,” he says.   
You step up and feel hardwood under your feet.   
“Just a few more steps,” he says.  
You walk forward with him and then suddenly he stops you.  
“Stay right here,” he says. “Eyes closed.”  
You can tell that he is moving around the room around you. You hear fabric moving and suddenly you can sunlight on you face. He comes back to your side and takes your hand.  
“Ok, open them,” he almost whispers.  
You open your eyes and gasp. Before you is a wall of glass doors that open to a 180 degree view of the ocean. A crushed shell and stone patio sits just beyond them with a firepit and chairs. A wooden staircase is off to the left going, you assume, down to the beach below.  
“Chris, this is absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim turning to him. “I would absolutely drive out here rather than stay in the city, too.”  
It’s my favorite place in the world,” he says as he pulls you toward the leftmost door. “Come outside, it gets even better.”   
The two of you go through the open doors and you stand just outside of them for a moment. Your mouth drops open.  
“Amazing, isn’t it?” he says with a grin.  
“Absolutely amazing,” you reply looking all around you.  
In every direction that you look, all you see is ocean and miles and miles of pure white sand. There is no one out of the beach. The two of you are really almost completely alone out here. You turn to look at him and he’s standing off to the side of you with a smile on his face.  
“Can we go down to the sand?” you ask him.  
“Absolutely,” he replies,” but you should probably take that hat off before we go down there. Just in case we run into any of my neighbors.” he drops you a wink and a huge smile pops up on his face.  
“Asshole,” you say with a grin, “but I’ll take it off, just because I want to feel the wind in my hair.”  
You take off your hat and throw it on the nearest chair. Pulling out your ponytail, you run your hands through your hair. It falls to your mid back and you shake your head to get any kinks out. You pull off your sneakers and socks and roll the legs of your jeans up before turning to look at Chris. He’s staring at you with a weird look on his face.  
“What’s wrong?” you ask him, alarmed.  
“You’re even more beautiful without the fucking hat on and your hair down,” he says.  
You look down. You can feel a blush rising in your cheeks. He comes over to you and lifts your chin. One hand buries itself in your hair and he bends to meet your lips with his. Grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he pulls down and your mouth drops open. His tongue slips inside, chasing yours, before he lets out a low moan.  
“Jesus,” he says, pulling away from you. “I can’t keep my hands of of you. Let’s get down to the beach before I bend you over one of these chairs, too.”   
He grins at you and you smack him on the arm.  
“Sex fiend,” you say to him with a laugh.  
He grabs your hand after taking off his boots and socks and pulls you toward the stairs. Looking down, you see another fire pit with two adirondack chairs around it facing out to the ocean.   
“Chris, this is seriously heaven,” you say as the two of you start down the stairs. “This fire pit on the sand is fucking awesome.”  
“I put that in last year,” he says as the two of you reach the sand.   
“You build that?” you ask him as you wiggle your toes in the sand.  
“I did,” he replies. “With my own two hands.”  
He raises his hands and wiggles his fingers in your direction. You grab one and hold it in both of yours. You can see the calluses there and you run a finger over them.  
“Add these to the list of things about you that are incredibly fucking sexy, Evans,” you say as you release his hand. “I’m definitely not into guys whose hands are softer than mine.”  
You are really going to need to stop that if you want to continue this walk on the beach,” he says with a strained voice. “I’m about two seconds away from throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you up the stairs so that I can bury my face between your legs.”  
His voice carries the same demanding tone that it did at Fenway when he told you he was going to fuck you as his hand squeezing your cunt. Your stomach flip-flops and you feel yourself getting wet.  
“Fuck the walk on the beach,” you tell him. “Take me inside and taste me.”  
He practically growls as he moves toward you and lifts you into his arms. He turns and starts up the stairs. You wrap your arms around his neck as he begins moving up the stairs. Pressing your lips to his collar bone, you kiss every inch of exposed skin that you can reach as he carries you. He reaches the top and goes right inside. He heads toward a door off to the right that you hadn't noticed before.  
As he moves through the doorway, you are met with another breathtaking view. A king sized bed takes up the majority of the small room. White, sheer curtains hand from the ceiling around it as it sits facing another wall of doors that open to a private veranda with the ocean beyond it. Chris sits you down on the edge of the bed and immediately presses you backwards into the mattress as he covers your body with his.  
Pinning your hands above your head, he presses his lips to the sell of your breasts visible at the top of your shirt. Pulling it down, he buries his face in your cleavage, his beard leaving scratches on your body as his tongue meets your skin. Your hips surge upward into his as he continues to cover your chest with kisses as he unbuttons your jeans with his free hand.  
He lets go of your hands to pull your jeans down your legs and you lift yourself to make it easier for him. You pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties.  
“So fucking beautiful,” he says as he kneels above you.  
He splays his hand out over your stomach, his thumb sliding under the elastic of your panties. Chris bends his head and starts to place kisses on your stomach as his hand moves lower into your panties.  
“Jesus, you are so wet,” he says as he slips a finger between your folds.  
Taking his hand out of your panties, he brings his hand to his mouth and licks your wetness off of his finger. You moan as you watch him.   
“Fucking delicious,” he says reaching for your hips to pull your panties down. “I need more.”  
He slides them off of you as he bends his head to place a kiss on the inside of your thigh. You can feel his breath on your pussy as he places another kiss on the inside of your thigh a bit higher. Your pussy clenches in anticipation of the next kiss which should be on the crease of your leg. Instead, he moves to the other leg and repeats himself,  
“Chris, please!” you beg, arching yourself off of the bed toward him.  
“I fucking love how eager you are,” he says before burying his face between your legs.  
“Oh my God,” you moan as he takes your clit between his lips. He slides one, then two fingers inside of you. He continues to lick and suck, his fingers working in and out of you. You can feel his beard on your thighs and the combination of all of these sensations is just too much.   
“Chris, I’m going to come,” you moan, your thighs tightening around his neck as you feel the first waves of your orgasm start.  
He pulls slightly away so that you can hear him.  
“I want to you to come in my mouth, babe,” he says. “Come all over my face.”  
His words send you over the edge. You grab the back of his head and hold him to your body as your orgasms racks you. His mouth never stops and he reaches around your thighs to hold you down as your body convulses.   
You flop back on the bed as he pulls away from your body, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.   
“God, Chris. That was amazing,” you say, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look at him.  
He is standing at the end of the bed and as you look up, he drops his jeans and underwear to the floor. He moves to kneel between your legs on the bed.  
“Babe, I am no where near done with you,” he says as he takes his cock in his hand and rubs it against your lips and clit. “ You haven’t seen anything yet.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continued sexing.

You gasp as he slides inside of you once again. This time is different though. The sex at Fenway was rough and frantic. This time something has definitely changed. His thrusts are painfully slow and deliberate.   
“Chris…,” you moan as he slides out and back in again, agonizingly slow. “Please…”  
“Slow and steady, baby,” he replies and continues his torture. “You are way too perfect to rush this time. We’ll get there.”  
He runs his hand up your arms, pulling them above your head and pinning them to the bed. He bends to kiss you, his beard scratching your face as his tongue parts your lips. Your hips surge forward, trying to take more of him as he slowly fucks you.   
He chuckles into your mouth at the movement of your hips against him.   
“So. Fucking. Eager,” he says with a smile, each word punctuated with a thrust that brings his hard stomach sharply against your clit.   
You whimper as he resumes his slow, thorough fucking of your pussy. He’s clearly in no rush to come. You decide you are going to make him come whether he likes it or not.  
You tighten your muscles around his cock as he continues to slowly move in and out of you. Circling your hips, you grind your clit against him.  
“Fuck,” he whispers. “I know what you’re doing.”  
“Good,” you answer. “Is it working?”  
“What do you think?” he responds before taking one of his hands from yours and circling your throat with it. “I think my girl likes it rough, doesn’t she?”  
You manage a nod before he tightens his hand around your throat. His hips start moving quicker as he fucks you.  
“Is this more your speed?” he asks as he releases your hands and reaches between your legs to rub your clit. “You prefer I fuck you like this?”  
You moan as his fingers pinch your clit. His other hand tightens a bit more around your neck as he continues to fuck your pussy. Yes, this is exactly how you like it.   
Your body tightens as you feel your orgasm approaching. Chris is relentless, pounding your pussy and pinching your clit as his hand stays firmly around your neck. Your hands come up and your nails scratch at his chest as you come.   
He fucks you harder through your orgasm. You can tell by his jerky motions that he is so close to coming as well.   
“Chris,” you manage and he loosens this hand around your throat. “Come all over me, please?”  
“Fuck,” he says. “You sure baby?”  
“Yes, please. I want your come all over me,” you tell him.  
He pulls his cock out of your pussy and takes it in his hand.   
Raising an eyebrow at you, he asks, “Is this what you want?”  
You nod as your hand moves between your legs and your slide two fingers inside your self.  
“Come for me, dimples.”  
He groans and begins stroking his cock as he kneels over your body. His eyes are locked on yours as his hands slide over his cock still glistening with the wetness from your pussy. His eyes close suddenly and he comes with a moan, covering your stomach and tits. You move your fingers faster inside of yourself, hoping for one more orgasm before this crazy, wonderful day comes to its inevitable end. You watch him squeeze the last drop out as your finger yourself, feeling your pussy start to tighten as a small orgasm shakes you. Your head falls back on the bed and Chris lays down next to you and pulls you to him.  
“That was amazing,” he tells you. “You’re kinda amazing...for a Yankees fan.”   
You laugh and swat his arm.  
“After all this, you still can’t let that go, can you?” you ask him.  
“I’m sure I can be persuaded after a few more sessions,” he says getting up to grab you a towel.   
“A few more sessions, huh?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Christopher Evans, are you asking me to spend the night with you?”  
“I am,” he says wiping the come off your body. “But before anything else, I really think you should see the outdoor shower. It’s got a bench in it facing the ocean.”  
“Race you,” you say with a smile.


End file.
